Nebraska Newspapers

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hYhY9
HYhYATH * TWO LITTLE OLD LADIES.
" - r
hyhyht
H > Tm > little old ladies , ono grave , one pay ,
K In tho sclf-samo cottage lived day by day ,
i ' ° qo > " ] & uot bo happy , "because , " she
Hv said ,
K * 'So many "children , wore hungry for
Hfr . ndshereallyliadnottho heart to smile ,
H | < When tho world was so wicked all tho
i while.
Hi * Tho other old lady smiled all day lone ,
H { 8ho knitted , or sowed or crooned a song.
K fho had not timo to be sad she said ,
II when hungry children woro crying for
r thread.
Hh So . sho.baked and knitted and gave away ,
And declared'the world grew hotter each
H day.
B9 'Two littlo old ladies , one grave , ono gay :
.
HHj .JSow which do you think chose the wiser
1 way !
E St. Nicholas.
1 oufTrobin. .
HI ] * CHAPTER III ( Continued )
i * "What an awful woman ! " exclaims
Hj > "Robin. "I hope , for all our sakes , it
Wkf is not tho formidable Aliee that wo Heo
Hp ponder. "
If ; * 4Nb , " I respond , with a vague shako
H | ' of my head. Then , as tho figure slow-
Wm i ' h" moves round the pond in tho ilirec-
K | t-ion of the distant house , a chill runs
Up over mo. "It muBt bo sdrae stranger
HI staying in the village who has gained
Hj .dmission to tho grounds , ] ? I add.ttry-
m ing to reassure myself ; for , surely ,
W& never was stranger so like in form to
li > ' Tiucy !
If ; "Most probable , " assents Robin ,
l& "vvhilo her bright eyes follow tho re-
Wi treating form. "Shall we resume our
H | TvayP" she pursues , with an evident
HO wish to dismiss the subject. "I see
Hf- the most lovely tuft of primroses on
B | ahead ! "
"I wonder whether John saw her ? "
I muse , turning reluctantly from the
I contemplation of tho distant figure.
"You must askhim , " remarks Robin.
| * Ask him ! " I repeat after her , in in-
| tlignant astonishment "Well , really ,
I Robin , I should have credited you with
| | nnoro tact ! Why , aunt Louisa and I
l | always avoid all mention of tho
I tiovors1 Walk , for fear of awakening
Bui .painful memories. "
HI " "I beg pardon , I am sure , " says
B "Robin , a little satirically ; "but , you
HI -see ; I did not know that this was a
B -land of mysteries. "
9j "Not mysteries , bufe tender recollec-
WM tions , " I answer , slipping my arm
9 | within hers as wo resume our way.
Uj "How prettily you put it ! " Can it
B * "oo that I detect a faint laugh from
H Robin ? If so , she smothers it before I
Hj -can turn my head , and continues seri-
H -ously and with a frankness which
R sounds . almost barbarous "Do you
H | know , I think , Blanche , that you have
B -a somewhat over-strained sense of deli-
Hj ' • cacy. It seems to me that you and
B Sliss Crick have done your best to
9 nurse and keep alive your brother's
flj .romantic attachment you have not
Hj -allowed him to iorgefc. His trouble
Hj 3ias been wrapped up in cotton wool
9j land carefully kejt and tended. If you
9j Jiad aired it a little sometimes , instead
9j of making a betc-noirc of-it ; ho would
Hj | never have moped as he is doing. "
mR "John never mopes , " is my rather
1 * indignant answer ; "but of course , "
III' "with. atkind of pity "you can't quite
| jM "fathom his great melancholy all at
* onco. He will never forget he will
' .never be happy again. "
"Dear , dear ! What a frightfully
"romantic set of people I find you
quite too too utterly romantic ! " says
Robin , falling into an attitude with"up -
raised palms , and eyes fixed raptly on
the .tree-tops ,
il My irritation suddenly gives way ,
- and I burst out laughing.
vAndyou , " I rejoin , letting fly my
' last shaft of wrath , "are too too uti
' .terly prosaic ! "
f. j
\ CHAPTER IY. i
Et was' about the middle of May
"when Robin .first put in her appearance 2
* * amongst usf by .thejirstof June she
• seems to have installed herself at PodI
more. The old house has in great 1
measure lost its gloom. Even the
-iark oak staircase seems brighter , *
"now that her buoyant , light-robed *
figure is forever flitting up and down *
Hts shallow steps. Windows , long c
* shut , stand open to the merry sun
shine , bunches of bright-hued flowers c
meet one face to face in outoftheI
way " corners. Ripples of joyous laught
> ter echo through the formerly silent 1
rTooms , and the somewhat stiff piano
I 'keys aro beguiled into rattling dance1
" jnusic and stirring marches. 2
Robin flits in and out , here , there , *
"and everywhere restless , cheery , im3
-pertinent , like her very name-sake.
; She wins aunt Louis's hea/t by a r
ready sympathy in all household mat- '
ters and an evident appreciation of the I
* many dainty dishes which she knows
sso well how to prepare , and which c
"have hitherto been uncared for and
untouched by her unsatisfactory niece 3
and nephew. By dint of her untiring s
energy andperseverahceRobin draws
. „ . -John occasionally into almost spirited J
arguments. He never grows really *
-angry with her , and but seldom even *
; bring8 the shaft of his satire into play r
against her ready wit. He treats her s
-condescendingly , and smiles at her , a
overflowing animal spirits in a superi- *
x > v kind of way , as he. would smile at
the petulance or saucihess of a child , I
As for myself , I seem to have lost
Cmy identity. Instead of creeping , . e
-about the house , languid and low-
spirited , I spend naif my time in the
-open air. Robin * ' ruthlessly insists r
upon changing the style of my hair , t
and , after overhauling my wardrobe I
informs me , with curling lip , that : s
there is not a dress in my collection n
juvenile enough for a woman of .forty.
"So she has her way ; and a week after
my friend's arrival sees me arrayed 6
3n dresses more becoming my age. c
As I survey myself robed in a mornv
ing gown of spotless wnite , I remark : t
-"You know Robin , I never did care e
much about dress , so I have always a
left the matter entirely in the hands of t
the dressmaker. "
"Who loaded you with flounces and I
"fringes to her heart's desire , " laughs
3lobin. "Of course it is very highi. .
* . ; minded and superior not to care how s
; ; .you look , but at the same time don't s
' ' " . - • .you think it is a trifle hard on your p
& i' - ' .friends ? " p
§ * * 'I 6hpuld hope my friends are above t
. . * caring what dresoes I wear ! " is.my t
p. • rather scornful reply. . r
is/ . - "You vain creature ! " cries Robin ,
* % . ' : looking quite shocked. "Of course a
JtJ- -we know a diamond is a diamond , c
jjf : ; -.whether set in gold or brassand a I
| i ? . f beauty a beauty , whether she dresses
g isin sackcloth or muslin only ordinary c
t
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HHB H S P f ! II Hi
TifrfJrsrrmwrtf'fr : ' • " < • < " " ' • " immwmi
commonplace people like tho gold and
tho muslin best. "
"How can there be vanity in not
caring for dress ? " I protested.
"It is tho very height of vanity it
shows that you think yourself abovo
dress. There , now , don't scold don't
scold ! I am sure you ought not , for
you look scrumptious in white posi
tively scrumptious ! I should not
wonder in the least if Harry kissed
you ton minutes without stopping. "
"How can you , Robin ? Harry nev
"
er
"Well , never what ? " asks Robin ,
looking at mo with mischievous eyes.
"Never what ? now , speak tho truth. "
"Never never looks atmy dress , "
I blunder out , laughing.
"Admirably turned , mademoiselle , "
answers Robin , with a meaning nod ;
"and allow mo to tell you that it is no
wonder ho never looks at your dress ;
really it was enough to make one shud
der. "
Harry , however , does not appear un
til evening , and certainly Robin would
have had some reason to triumph had
sho not seen his greating. He has
come to dinner , and is standing alone
in one of tho long bow windows
in tho drawing-room when I enter.
My white morning dress is replaced by
tho palest primrose-colored muslin ,
down tho front of which meanders a
row'of most-innocent little "bows.
"Why , Bee Bee , what have you done
to yourself , " he cries , advancing and
holding me at arm's length , at the
same timo scanning me with a look of
the most profound wonder. "What
have you done to yourself ? I never
saw you look half so jolly before. I
declare I didn't know you when you
came into the room ; I thought you
were some swell or other come on a
visit. "
"Yes , I am a swell , " I admit rather
ruefully , "but it is not my fault. Rob
in insisted on changing the style of my
hair and dress ; she said I was alto
gether out of date. "
"I begin to think she must have been
right , " he remarks , with decision ,
"and I shall propose a vote of thanks
to her. "
"What for changing my gowns ? "
a little scornfully.
"For freshening the whole atmo
sphere of Podmore , " he answers ,
laughing. "Why , even John seems
less melancholy than of yore she has
a wonderful power of diffusing bright
ness around her. "
I heave a little , sigli of envy.
"I wonder you did not choose a live
ly person , " I say , with a pout , "since
you seem to admire sprightliness so
much. "
"A grand idea ! " answers Harry , who
is in one of his teasing moods. "I'll
think it-over. Let me see , I must fall
in love with Miss Wolstencroft I dare
say , it would not be difficult and pro
pose to her ; of course she would accept
me. Then you will bring an action
for breach of promise , and come out
with damages ten thousand pounds.
Ah , no ! Bee. Bee , it wouldn't pay
' were it.not foi * the 'damages' , it might
do. "
"Pray don't trouble yourself about
the damages , " I say loftily ; "you are
perfectly free. "
"Which is more than you can say
for ; yourself , Misslmpertinenco , " cries
Harry ; and , before I know what he is
about i , fie seizes me round the waist ,
and i
andRobin
Robin suddenly opens the door , then
shuts : it again with a laugh , which she
makes no pretence of hiding.
"Robin Robin ! " I
, cry , disengaging
myself , and running to open the door.
She enters , with a smile lingering
round the corners of her mouth , and
greets Harry in her usual cordial man
ner.
ner."Blanche
"Blanche and I were going to have
a bit of a " waltz , " explains Harry with
more ready wit than truth.
"Then I am just in time to play for
you , " answers Robin demurely.
Thereupon she. takes her seat at the
piano , and rattles off a somewhat live
ly trots lemps.
Jack , entering the drawing room a
few moments later , pauses on the
threshold , aghast at the sight of two
figures spinning in and out amidst the
crowded furniture.
"Don't look so horrified we are
only having a carpet dance ! " says
Harry , laughing , . as he leaves me
breathless and crimson besido the
piano.
"Rather warm for dancing , I should
have thought , with the thermometer
at eighty-five degrees in the shade
but everybody to his taste , " answers
John superciliously " .
"I'told you so , " says Rohin , with a
mosr provoking and knowing nod ;
"though I came down later on pur
pose , you see I was still too early ! "
"Nonsense ! " I say , • somewhat iras
cibly.
"Of course it is .nonsense , " rejoins
Robin coolly ; "but one never expects
sense from an engaged couple. "
The next morning- the fourth of
June. I am aroused from my heavy
morning sleep by abunch of dew-laden
thyme , " which is drawn slowly across
my closed eyelids. I open my eyes to
see Robin , ready dressed , and holding
littleTmsket in her hand , standing
by my bed.
"Oh , Robin can't you let me rest ? "
cry , half angry , half laughing. "Go "
out , if you must , yourself , and gather
Bvery flower in the garden if you like ,
but do leave me . in peace. "
"Indeed I won't ! " answers Robin ,
resolutely. "You have no idea what
the morning is like. I never in my
Lifeheard birds singing as they are
singing ontside at this present mo- •
ment , "
"Fiddle-de-dee ! "
"No , they are not singing fiddle- '
de-dee , " affirms Robin , with a shake '
Df her head ; "they are indulging the
world in a mad chorus of gladness ; ;
the sun is glittering like diamonds on ;
Bvery blade of grass : and the pinks' '
are smelling like an old woman's spice i
box. " '
"Well , do go out and enjoy it all , "
suggest hospitably.
"Yes , I am going ; I only just came
In , out of pure charity , to wako you , " <
3ays Robiu then she continues , con
sulting her watch with cold blooded
precision "It is piow exactly half-
past seven if you don't meet me at 1
the sundial at eight sharp I shall , have (
the. pleasure of reminding you. of your '
remissness. " . , . . % , . , " • * K" ' '
"I don't belive there ls suchf a'word !
as remissness in the dictionary , . " I
cavil , as Robin with a flourish of her
basket , leaves the room.
A laugh echoes back up the stair- 1
case , and that is all the answer Robin :
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* - . ! • * - i- " . . . - i j- f M ' 9 f rMM3
fg ; | S a g ' " ' " r' * ' ' ' ' " ! ' '
U < - * -Jsn j.S.'Lv - , < ' . t' X'j'VT tt 4 * ftfoSQ
< ' ' * ' ' ' ' ' ' " * 3NA R.- , * * < •
5i r/i 1'ify. ! - 'T V7- ; 3Ni * - . - • . . . * . , * • , - * •
* ,
deigns to give me. I know my friend
too well to doubt her word , and , feel
ing pretty strongly convinced that all
chance of slumber is gone for this
ono morning at least I comply with ,
her demands , and join her in the
flower-garden a few minutes before the
timp specified. I find her sitting hat-
less in the full blaze of the morning
sun , her eyes closed in rapt attention
as sho drinks in the song of tho
birds , and her basket and lap over
flowing with dew-laden blossoms.
. I feel strongly tempted to wreak
some sudden revenge on the disturber
of my morning slumbors ; but Robin's
eyelids are raised as I approach her
with stealthy step.
"Come and bask it is delicious , "
she remarks slowly and lazily.
I have to own a little reluctantly
that Nature clothed in her spangled
morning veil is a sight worth seeing.
"And yet you lie in bed morning
after morning until the freshness of
the day is lost , " observes Rohin won-
doringly.
I cannot gainsay her , since she
speaks the truth.
"Don't you think you had bettor put
on your hat ? " I ask practically. "The
sun is very fierce. "
"No , " replies Robin , with a laugh
ing shake of horhead ; "my ono object
in life at present is to get sunburnt.
Besides , my hat is at present other
wise engaged. "
I turn my head in tho direction to
which she points , and faintly discern
the straw brim of her inverted hat
peeping forth from beneath a heavy
load of blossoms.
"I'll ask aunt Louise to hunt you up
an old market basket , " I say , with a
touch of. satire. "You never seem
able to find anything big enough to
hold your flowers. "
Robin only laughs softly.
"Aren't ? " cries
they just lovely she ,
burying her little white nose for a
moment amidst the fragrant heap on
her lap. "But I must set about put
ting them in water , poor dears.or they
will begin to droop. "
So saying , she rises from her seat ,
gathering up her apron in one hand ,
her hat and basket with the other.
"It won't take me ten minutes and
then I will come out again , " she says ,
looking at me doubtfully , to see
whether I have any intention of mov
ing ; but I shako my head , laughing.
"No , no , my Robin , " I remark , as I
produce the second volume of a novel ,
dreamy enongh to suit even my con
stitution. "I came out of doors to
please you , and I am going to stop to
please myself come back when you
have finished the flowers. "
So Robin trips off towards tho house ,
and settling myself comfortably on the
low stone seat , I plunge into my ficti
tious fairyland. For some timej read
in peace , then I am interrupted by a
tickling sensation on one of my hands ;
glancing up I become aware that a
precocious earwig is taking his morn
ing constitutional on my second finger.
To fling the insect from me , vigorously
rise and shako my skirts , lest any of
his kindred should be lurking thereon ,
is the work of a few moments. Then
I . pick up my book , dropped in the
skirmish , heave a rather impatient
sigh , and make my way to the house.
Robin is not in the hall , where I ex
pected to find her. The big marble
table , is strewn with leaves , stems and
twigs , a big pair of scissors , and two
water-jugs , but my friend is nowhere
visible.
"Robin , Robin ! " I cry-sending my
voice first in the direction of the din
ing room and then up-stairs. "Where
are you ? "
The response came from a totally
unexpected quarter.
"Here ! " answered Robin , in her low
clear tones.
Can it be that the sound emanates
from John's study ? Surely not ! And
yet the voice certainly comes from be-
hind me.
I turn and move toward the door ;
it stands ajar. I can distinguish the
flutter qf a white robe amidst the
darkness beyond. For a moment I
stand aghast. John must have for-
gotten to lock his sanctum , I suppose , .
yet the audacity of Robin takes away ]
my breath. }
I push open the door and enter , just
as my friend noisily sends up the lower
half of tho heavy windpw-sash. <
"Musty , fusty , and no mistake ! " j
she says , greeting with a sniff of relish
the rush of fresh outer air.
"Oh , Robin , shut it down again ! " I E
cry in a hushed whisper , and vainly 1
putting all my strength into a struggle |
with the stiff framework. "Help me j
to close it at once , and take away these E
flowers" nodding in the direction of ]
the table "and come away. "
"And why , pray ? Give me a roac
son , demands Robin , glancing round t
the dusty room with an air of dispar
agement. :
"Oh , John never allows any one • i
not even me" with emphasis "to y
come < in here ! The room , is always
cleaned ' out once a month ; but we give
him warning , so that he may lock up
all ; his precious things. "
"Dear me ! I don't see anything very ]
precious ; , " observes Robin , still gazing i
around i ; "nor is there a mystery so far i
as : I can make out" lifting the table '
cover i and peering underneath. 1
"Of course there is no mystery ! " I i
answer i impatiently. "But as a rule t
men clever _ men particularly hate '
to have their pet books and things i
handled. "
"Oh , and is your brother supposed (
to be clever ? " asks Robin , with a
slight elevation of her eyebrows ; and 1
she begins prying into the titles of the '
volumes scattered about on the table , j
"Supposed to be ? " I echo a little j
scornfully. "He is clever awfully ,
clever. ' - ' ,
"I have no wish to argue the point , " .
returns Robin indifferently. "Now I \
am not clever , not in the least ; but I .
do know this much , that fresh air is (
good for everybody , and I shall make ,
a point of telling him so. " j
"He will never forgive you if he
hears that you have been in his room. "
"How very " alarmingfor I shall
certainly tell him ! "
She has actually seated herself in 1
his round-backed writing chair , and
with profane fingexs is turning over
the , yellow leaves of a book which lies {
open before her. I still stand by the ]
window , half amused , half angered , ;
and wonder how iii thewide world ! -
am to inSuce her to move. 1 } !
( to be continued. ) ;
Jet "trimmings are more popular (
than ever , and are worn * in every va-
riety of new and elaborate patterns.
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I I liHTirri | ;
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Current ITIt.
Love is blind , * they say. Before
marriage he certainly is , and after
marriage he needs , to be. Somerville
Journal.
Joseph Chamberlain says that the
home rule question is losing its inr
portance. Perhaps he will not think
so after he has been murried longer.
When it is a man who is about to
be told a secret he shuts the door.
When it is a woman she opens it to
make sure there is no one listening
outside.
"Tho only color , " says a scientific
note , "that can be determined by the
sense of touch is blue. " True enough.
A man alwavs knows when lie feels
"
"blue. "
#
Judge "Miss , how old are 3'ou ?
Witness "Well , I am thirty. "
"Thirty what ? " Well , between
thirty and forty. " "I'll put j-our
age down at thirty-nine ; I guess you
won't loose anything by that. "
There was company at dinner and
Bobby's mother was somewhat sur
prised when Bobby refused pie. " Why ,
Cobby , " remarked one of the guests ,
"aren't you fond of pie ? " "Yes ,
marm , I'm as fond of it as any little
boy , but my sister made that pie. "
The Littlo Judge "On what
grounds do you wish me to hold this
man ? " Officer Lammen "Well there
was a murther committed , sor ; and ,
although Oi have me doubts about
this man bein' the criminal , it
wouldn't do to let him go until we
eatch another felly. " Puck.
Helen , six years old , had a copy of
"jEsop's Fables" given to her. She
looked at tho title page attentively
for a few moments , noticing probably
the diphthong M , in capitals , for the
first time. "That A is in a hurry ,
isn't it , Auntie ? " she said. "Why
so ? " said her aunt. "Because it's
crowding the E. " Boston Times.
A mother was correcting her little
boy the other day , and appealing to
him , asked how he would feel if he
had a son who didn't do this and
didn't do that , and so on. When
she had reached the end of the in
quiry he answered : "Well , mamma ,
if I had a little boy eight years old ,
I don't think I'd expect the earth of
him. "
Society Reporter "I'd like a vaca
tion of a month , sir. " City Editor
"Why , what do you mean ? We can't
spare you now , right in the midst of
the season. What's the matter ? "
Society Reporter "Ohnothingmuch ;
only in writing up the Blowout wed
ding I said : "The happypair enterlife
under auspicious circumstances , "
and it appeared ia the paper suspi
cious. 1 guess I'd bettergo south for
the rest of the winter. " Toledo
Blade.
Joshua , said a farmer who lived a
few miles from a Western town , in
conversation with his son , where do
you think we had better plant our
potatoes next Spring. I don't know ,
father , I hadn't thought ofit. How
would the land down by the creek do ?
• Down by the creek ? repeated the
old man , scornfully. We'll plant
• them at the corner of OneHnndred and
Eighteenth and Gay street , lot 6 ,
block 317 , Jenkin's addition to the
city of Swamp Hollow.
Yon Bulow was walking one day
in Berlin , when he met a man with
whom he had formerly been on some-
what intimate terms , but whose ac-
. quaintance ( he was desirious of drop-
ping. The quondam friend at once ac-
costed j him. "How do you do , Von
Bulow : ? delighted to see you ! Now
I'll bet that you don't remember my
name ! " You've won that bet , " re-
plied Von Bulow , and turning on his
heel he walked off in the opposite di-
rection.
A teacher in the infant department
of an Eighth Ward Sunday-School
recentlyobserved a five-year-old girl in
.
the class making desperate efforts to
suppress the exhibition of something
which seemed to please her wonderful.
ly. Thinking that relieveing her
mind might quiet the child , the teach-
er inquired the cause of her merri-
ment. "Why , " exclaimed the child ,
"my dramma's dead , and papa's
goin' to let me sing at ze funeral zis
afernoon. "
An English rector in a Sussex par-
ish once visited a poor old widow
who had nine or ten children. All of
them except the daughter had gone
out into the world and left her. At
last the daughter married and left the
mother alone. "Dame , " said the
rector , "you must feel lonely now ,
after having had so large a family. "
"Yes , sir , " she answered , "I do feel it
lonesome. I have brought up a large
family , and here I am now living
alone. And I misses'em and I wants
'em ; but I misses'em more than I
wants'em. "
Philadelphia man ( in Dakota : )
"What did that man do , steal a
horse ? " Leader lynching mob.
" " "Kill ? " "
"Worse. somebody "Worse
'ner that , stranger. We don't lynch
fellers fer hoss-stealin' and killin' no
more. We ' re a law-abidin' people ;
wen we an't pushed to hard. But ,
vou see , there an't no law to reach
' . " "There ' " :
that feller's case. isn't ?
"No Sir. He's one o' these ere
eastern coyotes wot comes around
suggestin' jawbreakin' Injun names
for north and south Dakota. "
. i
About Character. ;
Nothing can be more certain than <
that the character can be sustained .
and strengthened only by its own \
energetic action. The will , which is i
the central force of character ,
mustbetrained to habits of decision ; ]
otherwise it willbeable neither * to. -
resi8ts r evil nor to follow good ? '
Decision gives the power of standing j
firmly , when to yieldhowever slightly , j
might be only the first step in a J
down hill course to ruin. Once a }
Week. ]
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"THE SLAUCfftpR. " ,
Dr. Talmage'a Sermon at St ,
Louts.
Tlie Infiuoncoa of Society and , the Habit of
Contracting Debts lucidly Portrayed.
St. Louis , April 7. The Rev. T. De Witt
TaImagcD. D. , ot Brooklyn , preached hero
this evening to a vast audience. His sub
ject was "Tho Slaughter , " and his text ,
Proverbs , vii. 21 : "As an ox to tho slaugh
ter. " Tho eloquent preacher said :
Thcro is nothing in tho voico or the man
ner of the butcher to indicate to the ox that
there is death ahead. Tho ox thinks ho is
going on to a rich pasture field of clover ,
where all day long ho will revel in tho her
baceous luxurinnco : but after a while tho
men and tho boys close in upon him with
sticks and stones and shouting , and drive
him through bars aud into a doorway ,
where ho is Xastcnod , and with a well
aimed stroke tho ax fells iiim ; and so tho
anticiDation of the redolent pasture field is
completely disappointed. So many a young
man has been driven on by temptation to
what ho thought woujd be paradisiacal en
ioyment ; but after a while influences with
darker hue andswartuicr arm close in upon
him , and ho finds that instead of making an
excursion into a garden he has been driven
"as an ox to tho slaughter ! "
1. We arc apt to blamo young men for
being destroyed when wo ought to blamo
the influences that destroy them. Society
slaughters a great many young men by the
behest , "You must keep up appearances ;
whatever be your salary , you must dress
as well as others , you must wino and
brandy as many friends , you must smoke
as costly cigars , youmustgivo as expensive
'
entertainments , and you must live in as
fashionable a boarding house. If you
haven't the money , borrow. If you can't
borrow mako a f also entry , or subtract here
and there a bill from a bundle of bank bills ;
you will only have to mako the deception a
littlo while ; in a few months , or in a year
or two , you can make all right. Nobody
will be hurt by it : nobody will be tho
wiser. You yourself will not be damaged. "
By that awful process a hundred thousand
men have * been slaughtered fdv time and
slaughtered for eternity.
Suppose you borrow. There is nothing
wrong about borrowing money. There is
hardly a man in this house bat has some
times borrowed money. Vastestates have
been built on a borrowed dollar. But there
aro two kinds of borrowed money. Money
borrowed for the purpose of starting or
keeping up legitimate enterprise and ex
pense , and money borrowed to get that
which you can do without. Tho first is
right , tho other is wrong. If you have
money enough of your own to buy a coat ,
however plain , and then you borrow money
for a dandy's outfit , you have taken the first
revolution of the wheel down ' grade. Bor
row for the luxuries ; that tips yourpros-
snects over in the wrong direction.
The Bible distinctly says the borrower is
servant of the ' lender. It is a bad state of
things when you have to go down some
other street to escape meeting some one
whom you owe. If young men knew what
is tho despotism qf being in debt more of
tlicm would keep out of it. What did debt
do for Lord Bacon , with a mind towering
above the centuries i It induced him to take
bribes and convict himself as a criminal be
fore all ages. What did debt do for Walter
Scott ? Broken hearted at Abbotsfofd.
Jvept him writing until his hand gave out in
paralysis to keep the sheriff away from his
pictures and statuary. Better for him if he
had minded the maixm which he had chise
led over the fireplace at Abbotsford ,
' • Waste not , want not. "
The trouble is , my friends , the people do
not understand the ethics of going in debt ,
and that if you pur-chase goods with no ex
pectation of paying for them , or go into debts
which you cannot meet , you steal just so
much money. If I go into a grocer's store ,
and I buy sugars and coffees and meats ,
with no capacity to pay for them and no in
tention of paying for them , I am more dis
honest than if I go into the store , and when
the grocer's face is turned the other way I
fill my pockets with the articles of merchan
dise ; and carry off a ham. In the ono case I
take the merchant's time , and I take the
time of his messenger to transfer the goods
to my house , while in the other case I take
none of the time of tho merchant , and I wait
upon myself , and I transfer the goods with-
! out any trouble to him. In other words , a
sneak thief is not so uad as a man who con
tracts for debts he never expects to pay.
Yet in all our cities there are families that
move every May day to get into proximity
to other grocers and meat shops and apothe
caries. They owe everybody within half a
mile of where they now live , and next May
they will move into a distant part of the
city , finding a new lot of victims. Mean-
while you , the honest family in the new
house , are bothered day by day by the
knocking : at the door of d isappointed bakers ,
and butchers , and dry goods dealers , and
newspaper carriers , and you are asked
where ; your predeccsssor is. You do not
know. It was arranged you should not
know. Meanwhile your predecessor has
gone to some distant part of the city , and
! the people who have anything to sell have
sent their wagons and stopped their to
solicit ! the "valuable" custom of the new
neighbor ' , and he , the new neighbor , with
great ! complacency and with an air of
affluence , orders the finest steaks and the J
highest 1 priced sugars , and the best of the 1
canned { fruits , and perhaps , all the newspa- ]
pcrs. And the debts will keep on accumu la- ;
ting until he gets his goods on the 30th of i
next April in the furniture cart. ]
Now , let me say , if there are any such in !
the house , if you have any regard for your
own convenience , you had better remove to 1
some , greatly distant part of the city. It is i
too bad that , having had all the trouble of 1
consuming [ tho goods , you should also have 1
the 1 trouble of being dunned ! And let me 1
say that if you find that this pictures your 1
photograph \ , instead of being in church you
; ought to be in the penitentiary ! No wonder 3
that so many of our merchants fail in busi1 1
ncss. \ They are swindled into bankruptcy 1
by i these wandering Arabs , these nomads of 1
city life. They cheat the grocer out of the . '
green I apples which makes them sick , the '
physician who attends their distress , and '
tho : undertaker who fits them out for depar1 1
tare from the neighborhood where they pay 1
the debt of nature , the only debt they ever <
do ' pay ! • <
Now our young men are coming up in this ' •
depraved i state of commercial ethics , and l i
am i solicitous about them. I want to warn <
them against being slaughtered on the sharp
edges • of debt. You want many things you '
have not , my young friends. You shall have 1
them if you have patience and honesty and ]
industry. Certain lines of conduct always 1
lead out to certain successes. 1
There is a law which controls even tho3e 1
things that seem haphazard. I have been j
told by those who have observed that it is i
possible to calculate just how many letters i
will be sent to the Dead Letter office every i
year through misdirection ; that it is possi2 2
ble to calculate just how many letters will <
be detained for lack of postage stamps i
through the forgetfulness of the senders , 1
and that it is possible to tell just how many i
; people will fail in the streets by slipping on 1
an orange peel. In other words , there are 1
no ! accidents. The most insignificant event J
you ever heard of is the link between two < '
eternities ' the eternity of the past and the 1
eternity i of the future. Head the right way , *
young ; man , and you will come out at the
rightgoaL J
Bring me a younsr man and tell me what i
his physical health "is. and what his mental i
caliber ! , and what his habits , and I will tell
you what will be his destiny for this world , i
and the destiny for the world to come , and <
I will make five inaccurate prophesies out :
of the five hundred. All this makes me c
solicitous \ in regard to young men , and I t
want to make then nervous in regard to t
the construction of unpayable debts. I give t
you a paraffraph of my own experience. i
My first settlcment as pastor was in a .
village. My salary was S300 and a parsoni
age. The amount seemed enormous to me. 1
I said to myself. "What ! all this for one s
year J" I was afraid of getting worldly una
dcr so much prosperity ! I resolved to in- t
vite the congregation to my house in groups
of twenty-five each. We began , and as they
were the best congregation in all the world , i
and we felt that noting was too good for t
them , we piled all the luxurisc on the table , t
I never completed the undertaking. At the 1
end of six months I was in financial despair , i
1 found what every young man learns in (
time to save himself , or too late , that you s
must measure the size of a man's body bei
Sate you .begin totcut tha cloth ' for his coat 1
' "When a young man ' willfully 'and of _ i
clibice , having the comforts of life , goes ini
to the contraction of unpayable debts he
knows not into what he goes. The creditors 3
get after the debtor , tho paclr of hounds in i
"full cry. and alas ! for the reindeer. They 1
jingle his doorbell before he gets up in the 1
morning , they jingle his doorbell after he t
has gone to bed at night. They meet him as 1
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ho comes off his front steps. They send him
a postal card , or a letter , In cur teat stylo ,
tolling him" to pay up. Thoy attach his
goods. Thoy want cash , or a ncto at thirty
days , or a note on domand. Thoy call hint
a knave. Thoy Bay ho Hoa. Thoy wunt
him disciplined at tho church. Thoy want
him turned out of tho bank. Thoy como to
him from this sido , and from that side , and
from behind , and from abovo , and from be
neath , and ho la insulted and gibbeted , and
sued , and dunned , and sworn ut , until ho
gets tho nervous dyspepsia , gets neuralgia ,
gets liver complaint , gets heart disease , gets
convulsive disorder , gets consumption.
Now ho is dead , and you say : "Of courso
thoy will lot him alone. " Oh , no ! Now
they aro watchful to see whether thoro aro
any unnecessary oxpensos at tho obsequies ,
to see whether there is any useless handle
on the casket , to sco whether thcro is any
surplus plait on tho shroud , to sco whether
tho hearse is costly or cheap , to bco whether
the flowers sent to tho casket have been
bought by tho family or donated , to seo in
whoso name tho deed to tho grave is mado
out * Then thoy ransack tho bereft house
hold , tho books , tho pictures , tho carpets ,
tho chairs , tho sofa , tho piano , the mattress
es , tho pillow on which ho dies. Cursed bo
debt ! For the sako of your own happiness ,
for tho sako of your good morals , for tho
sako of your immortal soul , lor God's sake ,
young mau , as far as possible keep out of it.
II. But I think more young men aro
slaughtered through irroligion. Tako away
a young man's religion and you mako him
tho proy of evil. We all know that tho
Biblo is tho only porfect system of morals.
Now if you want to destroy tho young man's
morals tako his Biblo away. How will you
do that ? Well , you will caricature his rev
erence for tho Scriptures , you will tako all
thoso incidents of tho Biblo which can bo
made mirth of Jonah's whale. Samson's
foxes , Adam's rib then you will caricature
eccentric Christians.or inconsistent Chris
tians , then you will pass off as your own all
those hackneyed arguments against Chris
tianity which are as old as Tom Paiuo , as
old Voltaire , old as sin. Now you have cap
tured his Bible , aud you have taken his
strongest fortress : tho way is compara
tively clear , and all the gates of his soul aro
sot open in invitation to tho sins of earth
and tho sorrow of death , that thoy may
como in and drive tho stako for their en
campment.
A steamer fifteen hundred miles from
shore with a broken rudder and lo3t com
pass , and hulk leaking fifty gallons an hour ,
is better off than a 5'oung man when you
havo robbed him of his Bible. Have you
ever noticed how despicably mean it is to
tako awaythe world's Biblo without propos
ing a substitute ? It is meaner than to como
to a sick man and steal his medicine , mean
er than to come to a cripple and steal his
crutch , meaner than to come to ii pauper
and steal his crust , meaner than to come to
a poor man and burn his house down. It is
the worst of all larcenies to steal the Biblo ,
which has been the crutch and medicine
and food to so many ! What a generous and
magnanimous business infidelty ha3 gone
into ! This splitting up of life boats and
taking away of fire escapes and extinguish
ing of light houses.
I come out and say to such people ,
"What are you doing all this for ? " "Oh , "
they say , "just for fun. " It is such fun to
see Christians try to hold on to their Bibles !
Many of them have lost loved ones , and
have been told thut their is a resurrection ,
and it is such fun to tell them there
will be no resurrection ! Many of them
have believed that Christ came to carry the
burdens and to heal tho wounds of the
world , and it is such fun to tell them they
will have to be their own saviour ! Think
of the meanest thing you ever heard of ;
then go down a thousand feet underneath
it , and you will find yourself at the top of a
stairs a hundred miles long : go to the
bottom of the stairs , and you will find
a ladder a thousand miles lonjr ; then go to
the foot of the ladder and look off a preci
pice half as far as from here to China , and
you will find the headquarters of the mean
ness that would rob this world of its only
comfort in life , its only peace in death and
its only hope for immortality. Slaughter a
young man's faith in God , and there is not
much more left to slaughter.
Now , what has become of the slaughter
ed ? Well , some of them arc in their fath
er's or mother's house broken down in
health , waiting to die ; others are in the hos
pital ; others are in Greenwood , or , rather ,
their bodies are , for their souls have gone
on to retribution. Not much prospect for
: a young man who started life with good
health , and good education , and a Christain
example ' set him , and opportunities of use
fulness , who gathered all his treasures and
jiut : them in one box , and then dropped it
into the sea.
. Now , how is this wholesale slaughter to
be . stopped ( There is not a person in the
: house but is interested in that question.
Young man , arm yourself. The object of
my sermon is to put a weapon in each of
your ; hands for your own defense. Wait
not for Young Men's Christian associations
to protect you , or churches to protect you.
Appealing to God for help , take care of
yourself. :
First , have a room somewhere that you
can ' call your own. Whether it be the back
parlor ] of a fashionable boardinpr house , or a
\ room in the fourth story of a cheap lodging ,
I : care not Only have that one room your
fortress. Let not the dissipator or unclean
step over the threshold. If they come up
the ; 1 long flight of stairs and knock at the
door \ , meet them face to face and kindly yet
firmly refuse them admittance. Have a few
family { , portraits on the wall , if you brought
them ! with you from your country home.
Have J a Bible on the stand. If you can
afford \ it and you can play on one , have an
instrument of music harp or flute , or
cornet i , or melodeon , or violin , or piano.
Every morning before you leave that room ,
pray. Every night after you come home in
that room , pray. Make that room your
Gibraltar , your Sebastopol. your Mount
Zion. Let no bad book or newspaper come
into that room , any more than you would
allow a cobra to coil on your table.
Take care of yourself. Nobody else will
take care of you. Your help will not come
up two or three orfour flights of stairs ; your ]
help will come through the roof , down from (
heaven , from that God who is in the six
thousand years of the world's history never
betrayed a youngman who tried to be good
and a Christian. Let me say in regard to 1
your adverse worldly circumstances , in
passing , 'that you are on a level now with I
those who are finally to succeed. Mark my {
words , young man , and think of it thirty
years from now. You will find that those
who thirty years from now are the million
aires of this country * who are the orators of
the country , who are the poets of the coun
try , who are the strong merchants of the .
country , who aro tho great philanthropists
of the country mightiest in church and 1
state are this morning on a level with you , .
not an inch above , and you in straightened
circumstances now. 1
Herschel earned his living "by playing a
violin at parties , and in the interstics of
the play he would go out and look up at the <
midnight heavens , the fields of his immor1
tal conquests. George Stephenson rose :
from being the foreman in a colliery to be '
the most renowned of the world's engineers. '
No outfit no capital to start with ! Young (
man , go down to the Mercantile library and .
get some books and read of what wonderful
mechanism God gave you in your hand , in
your foot , in your eye , in your ear , and then <
asked some doctor to take you into the disi i
secting room and illustrate to you what you ]
have read about and never again commit
the blasphemy of saying ynu have no capi- .
tal to start with. Equipped ! Why , the '
poorest young man in this houseis equipped (
as only the God of the whole universe could t
afford to equip him. Then his body a very
poor affair compared with his wonderful .
soul oh , that is what makes me solicitous. 1
I am not so much anxious about you , young 1
man , because you have so little to do with , (
as I am anxous about you because you have . ,
much to risk and lose or gain.
There is no class of persons that so stir
my sympathies as young men in great
cities. Not quite enough salary to live on ,
and all the temptations that come from tha * .
deficit Invited on all hands to drink , ana j
their exhausted nervous system seeming to
demand stimulus. Their religion carical
tured by the most of the clerks in the store 1
and most of the operatives in the factory , t
The rapids of temptation and death rush-
ing against that young man forty miles an 5
hour , and he in a frail boat headed up r
steam , with nothing but a broken ore to t
work with. Unless Almighty God help
them they will go under. r
Ah ! when I told you to take care of youra
self yon misunderstood me if you thought I "
nioant you are to depend upon human reso- *
tion , which may be dissolved in the foam of
the wine cup , or may he blown out with the < 3
first gust of temptation. Here is the hel
met , the sword of the Lord God Almighty , a
Clothe yourself n that panoply and you f
shall not be put ti > ' ; confusion. Sin pays well
neither in this world nor the next , but right
thinking and rigat believing and. , right act
ing will take-ybu in safety through this life " * a
and in transport through the next t
I never shall forget a prayer T heard a j
young man mako soine fifteen years ago. It
was a very short prayer , but it was a tre
mendous prayer : "Oh Lord , help us. We .
find it so very easy to do wrong and so hard ,
to do right Lord , help us. " That prayer , t
I'll warrant you , reached the ear of God , I J
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and reached His fomrt. And there " ar 1 lit rkf Jf 3
this houso a hundred men , who hava found ? Jlf }
out-a thousand yc ' urif ? raea. ittrbar * ; wno f . - U !
havo found out that very thlnp. It ia * o . , jaiu
very easy to dowrong , ond so hnrd to uo jMm
f got a lottcr , only ono paragraph.of . which ? jgj
I shall read : "Having moved around somejsk
whut I huve run across raauy younjr men or : $ &
intelligence , ardent strivors after that will- * w
o'-tho-wlsp , fortune , and of one of thoso X ire *
would speak. Ho was a young Englishman yr
of twonty-threo or four years , who camo to f > .
New York , where ho had acquaintances , m
with barely sufllciont to keep him a couple Jf
of wcokB. Ho had boon tenderly reared ; * g i\ \
I > crhaps I should say too tondorly , and was * ? \
not used to earning his living ; and found It . v j.
extremely difficult to got any position that ? , . \
ho was capable of filling. Af tor many vain 1
efforts in this direction ho found himself on 1
Sunday evening in Brooklyn , noar your j
church , with about thrco dollars loft of nla .j |
small capital. .Providence seemed to lead yi
hlmtoyourdpor , and ho dotermiuert to go , * |
in and near you. . . il
"He told mo his going to hear you that ( IP
night was undoubtly tho turning point in J |
his life , for when ho wont into church ho 3 Fj
felt despcrato , but whileHstcnitisrto your ii
discourse his hotter nature got thomastory. f j
I truly bolievofrom whatthU young man W
told mo that your sounding tho depths of. - M
his heart that night alono brought him back m
to his God whom ho was so near leaving. " hi
TAKKTIIKltlOUTJlOAn AND KKUP TO IT. ] SJ
The echo , that is , of multitudes in the W
house. I am not preaching an abstraction , ji
but a great reality. Oh ! friendless young Kl
man , Oh ! prodigal young man. Oh ! " brokon Ji
hearted young man , 1 commend you to Hi
Christ this day , tho best friend a man ever wj *
had. Ho meets you this morning. You .4
havo como hero for this blessing ; Dosplso - ft
not"that emotion rising In. your rouU it is ' ; - . *
divinely lifted. Look into tho fuceof Christ.
Lift ono prayor to your father's God , to - . . 11
your mother's God , and get tho pardoning V
blessing. Now , while I speak , you are at J"
tho forks of tho road , and this is tho right J
road , and that is tho wrohg road , and 1 sea * !
you start on the right road. .
Ono Sabbath morning , at tho close of my 4 f ,
service , J saw a gold watch of tho world re- ygf
nowucd and deeply lamented violinist Ola i. 1
Bull. You remember ho died in his Island . ' 1
home off tho coast of Norway. That gold I
watch ho had wound up day after day .il
through his illness , and then ho said to his , 1
companion. "Now ! want to wind this watch : , I
as long as I can , and then when I am gone I \m \
want to you keep it wound up until it gets f J
tojmy friend Dr. Dorcmus , in Now York , ' J
and then he will keep it wound up until his
life s done , and then I want tho watch to , '
goto his young son , my especial favorite. " j
Tho great musician , who moro thau any
other artist had made tho violin speak and s
sing and weep and faugh and triumph for
it seemed whon ho drew tho bow across tho
strings as if all earth and heaven trembled
in delighted sympathy the great musician , '
in a room looking off upon the &ou , and sur- . | ll
rounded by nN favorite instruments * , ;
of music , closed his eyes in (
death. While all tho world was mourning ' 1
at his departure , sixteen crowded steamers V
fell into line of funeral procession to carry H
his body to tho main land. There were fifty M
thousand of his countrymen gathered in an
amphitheatre of the hills waiting to hear tho ,
culogium , and it was said when the great \M
orator of the day with stentorian voice be- '
gan to speak , the fifty thousand people on
tho hillsides burst into tears. , } m
Oh ! that was the close of a life that had <
aouo so much to mako the world > happy. II
But I have to toll you , young maut if you * 'M
livo right and die right , that wan a tamo ffl
sceno compared with that which will greet
you when from the galldvics of heaven the
ono hundred and forty ar.d four thousand ,
shall accord with Christ in crying * "Well
done , thou good and faithful servant. "
And the influences that on earth you put iU )
in motion will go down fro n generation to SJ
generation , tho influences ye'i wonud up . fl
handed to your children , and their influences ,
wound up and handed to their children until
watch and clock arc no more needed to
mark the progress , because time itself shall yM
be no logner. ' J , H
. o . . V
She ICever Saw a Play L'efoir.
Among the throng which packed the | 9
old Academy of Music from parquet to J m
dome to witness the performance of ' M
"The Old Homestead" ' was a lady of m
venerable appearance who occupied a { H
seat in the front vow of the dresr cir- ( H
cle and manifested the deepest interest J
in the play. She-wait Mrs. Hinckinan , | fl
living near Morristown. and is prob- M
ably the oldest debutante of tho sea- H
son : , being 8ti years of age. I-Jevcr un- H
til then had she been within the walls
of ' a. theater , or "play house , " as she fl
styles : it.
During the performance she was so S
engrossed 1 with the scene that she nev- < B
er took her eyes off the sfcige. She fl
responded with laughter and tears to fl
the varying emotional demands of the '
situations , , but had littilc to say until - , M
the play was done , and she rested for I
a i few moments before journeying to ifjfl
her ] homeShe said it had been a >
revelation to her. H
' • Why , I hadirt an Idea that a play | S
could ' be acted so that everythingfl [ >
would seem real , " she exclaimed. "I II
saw some acting once of 'Moses in the H
Bulrushes' at a school exhibition , but 9
it i was nothing at all like ihis. and , fl
the \ dear old lady fairly twinkled all % 'fl
/
over ( with happy excitement.This is nfl
really 1 a great deal better than RuiTalo | | l
Bill's Wild West , she continued. "I ' /
went to sec that last year. I was de- * X
lighted with it. too. And now I won- h
der wnat I shall be going to next ? " JH
queried ' this sprightly debutante , who ' (
evidently felt that the matinee had jjjfl
marked a new era in her life and re'A '
garded it as the commencement , of a ) IS
long round of theater going. New f/j9 /
York World. M >
1 m < iwm
Marriages of African Explorers. fa
Dr. Wolfe has advised white men j fl
who , expect to make Africa , their home ' ; S
to marry native women and not expose 9
the women of temperate climates to jl
the hardships and dangers of life in tho " )
torrid zone. A few Europeans have , A ]
done so. When Sfanley was here two J H
j-ears ago he said that the union be- J 9
tween Mr. Grenfeli and the Cameroons * 9
negress whom he married was appar- jH
ently a very happy one. Two peculi- ) S
arities about these mixed unions are jH
noticeable. As a general thing it is I H
observed that no births occur in such { fl
families until after the white , man has J ' 9
lived some years in the country and be- [ ' V
come quite thoroughly acclimated. It
is also noticed that the half-breed ( | 9
children are very proud , as they grow 9
up , of the white blood in their veins. fl
think themselves a great deal ftigher 1,9
in the social scale than their mothers B
relatives and are more apt in their con- * 9
duct to illustrate the vices than the 9
virtues of both parents. „ 9
Business View. 9
A Sunday-school teacher tells this , 9
amusing story : I was teaching a crass t 9
of little boys in Sunday-school. The ' 9
lesson happened to be about the } 9
Prophet Elijah and the widow of r 9
Zarephath , who , you will of course re- 9
member , told Elijahwhen he asked her 9
to take him to board , that she "had 9
not a cake , but si handful of meal in 9
barrel and a little oil in a cruse. " yj 9
When asked as to the supply of food 9
the poor widow had one little fellow 9
quickly replied : vj
"She had just meal enough to make * J9
cake and oil enough to start the ifll
fire ! " < 9
m 1 HJ
There is considerable human nature about |
newspaper. IJor instance , * a * new. sorrsai. * , " *
tion quickens its ' circulation. Terre Haute * ; 9
Express. HJ
Depositor "Is the cashier in ! " Tntjani- 9
tor "Heisma'amfortenyears. Perhaps , 9
th' assishtant cashier ' 11 do , ma'am ! " 19
Tudze. flj
1 HI
9
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